Month: February 2016

In celebrating probably one of the greatest anniversaries ever, I give credit to the little furry bastard who stole my heart, Bodie. A year ago, my life changed forever. I adopted the cutest and quite possibly the worst puppy ever. Mind you, I love him more than anything, but holy shit, Bodie was not and is not an easy puppy/dog. I look back on the last year with him and truly I don’t have a single regret getting him. He’s taught me so much, but above all he’s really helped me to grow up and fully embrace what it means to be an adult.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

My life now revolves around a furry, four legged creature. He without trying dictates my social life, how late I can stay out, the company I keep. On the bad days, I wanna hang a sign on his neck that says “free poorly-behaved dog” but I swear when he’s good, nothing beats that feeling in the world. And the way he wags his tail when I come home. All the bad can be turned good and perfect when he looks at me and cocks his head.

I don’t regret a moment with him, for instance, like now, as I write Bodie is sitting next to me chewing on a horn. I’ve begun to see that while Bodie gives me the brush off at the park and when he’s with his friends, his life is fully entwined with me. There is no one else splitting the work; he fully relies on me to feed him, take him out, love him, and play with him. Had I understood how much work a puppy could be, I might not have gotten him, but who am I kidding? I saw him and I fell in love. My life is 1000% better and happier, even though I don’t get to make the rule anymore. The people I’ve become friends with and the people I’ve met, all because of a common link, has kept me grounded through some of the darkest days.

There are definitely days when it feels like having Bodie is truly a full-time job and can be stressful. But the good usually outweighs the bad. Would I be who I am today if I didn’t have Bod? Probably not, but I’m happy with who I’ve become since adopting him. Not only did his life change the day I took him home, mine did too, and it’s been quite a journey.

A year ago I had just turned 24 (duh) and was working my first post-college job. I was loving life in Florida, even with working 6 days a week.

I thought I knew what I was working towards. I thought I had a grasp on adulthood- boy was I wrong. I wish I had so many lessons prior to entering the real world. I wish I learned some of these very crucial lessons before being brought down to my knees. But that’s what experience is- the best and worst teacher – because the lesson is taught after.

I had no idea how to walk away- from a lot. But I learned. I had no idea of how to keep my work life from bleeding into my personal life, especially when I lived where I worked. My life changed so much from June until December. I finally felt like I shed my college past and started to write the new chapter.

A little more cynical and jaded. A little colder and harder. Life is funny, it has a way of changing us before we can see what is happening. But by then we can’t go back and rewrite the past. All we can do is make our story better. I feel I’ve grown up, even if there are days I definitely feel like I’m a faking fraud. A year ago, I lost sight of who I was to begin with and how to be the person I wanted to be. I never thought I’d forget how to be the strong passionate person my parents taught me to be, but upon further reflection, I saw a hollow shell of my former self.

For the second part of 2015 I worked to find myself and my passion again. It took going halfway around the world to bring back the flame to my soul. It took a long time to see I can always start over. Quitting for the first time was empowering, but what really hit home was how I finally could take back control in my life.

In a final blow out. In the heat of a moment. In the bitter words spewed. Nothing is held back. That’s when the heart explodes.

It’s in a flash. Nothing but chaos remains. A forever frayed and decimated love sits at their feet. Nothing can be salvaged.

The final heated blows. Nothing was scared. In a hailstorm, all the angry and spiteful words came spewing out. Rationale begs, ‘Don’t. Keep those words to yourself. When you say they, you are sealing the end.’ Emotional rages back, ‘Doesn’t matter. I kept it in. I kept the peace. I want to see them break as I broke.’

For once emotion takes control. Everything, the hurt, pain, disappointment, anger, and spite comes out in biting words. The color drains from their face. The first words, hitting their intended target. To watch a loved one shatter before you is a sight. Emotions flash through their eyes. The heart feels triumph followed by guilt and regret. But it justifies the action.

A heart which has exploded has nothing else to lose. It’s lost all, all the love, trust, companionship, respect, and connection. Nothing remains. A hole sits where the heart used to live. A gaping, open wound, chalk full of memories of better and happier days.

The heart explodes when nothing else can be done. The final straw that breaks the heart. The one which is unforgettable and unforgivable. A heart explodes when there is nothing left.

Mixed signals are the hardest to decipher. What is the other person thinking? What are their intentions, wants, hopes, and/or thoughts?

After a night out and a restful slumber, we took to Sabrina’s around noon after taking the pup out for a quick play session. Following brunch, we sat and watching some young college students enjoy the throes of no responsibilities and play quidditch, before opting to go back to my place for a post-brunch nap.

It’s true, this image, sums up how I’ve been feeling with him. I absolutely love our time together, but it seems that it’s always much too short to really make me as happy as I feel in the moment. I want to soak him in every way and shape. The desire hasn’t subsided. The wanting hasn’t lessened. In fact the drive keep increasing, until he does something stupid and I get all mad at him again… (which happens more than you might think) but it only takes a kiss and his hand in mine to make it all okay again.. funny how that happens.

Then a long and bumpy week, for us both, of not seeing each other, slightly (okay more than slightly) hurt feelings on my part and some cranky attitude, we finally were able to uncover the lack of cohesion we’d been having all week. Unfortunately we didn’t see each other during the week of Thanksgiving, but we did make plans once we both were back in the city.

It was funny, we had half of a “define the relationship” conversation and then it was once again left alone. Little did he realize, the following day I deleted my dating app and ended it with the other guy. He slept over Tuesday night and stayed later, after I had to go to work, felt easy and nice. But he left his umbrella at my place. Fast forward, to yesterday, he met me after lunch and we went to stroll around the city after I finished my lunch, but the whole afternoon I was left confused about everything. I couldn’t get a handle on what he was thinking and if he was looking to end it or if he wasn’t interested anymore. By nature, I overthought for the better part of the afternoon because I couldn’t understand why he was so seemingly different.

New relationships are tough, trying to learn to read a new person, impossible. When did it become accepted to play it cool and care less? When did we stop acting like folks of a civilized nature and to woo each other? Where did our passionate, furious, breathless adoration go? Why do people just not care anymore?

A heart shatters in the quiet of the night. It’s when it all becomes too much and the final feather comes to rest on your beaten heart. The lightest weight becomes too much to bear. A shattered heart is one which has endured more than one thought possible, more than is fair or just, more than any single heart should feel.

A shattered heart tried to take on the world. As a bearer of a formerly shattered heart, it’s hard to describe what it truly feels like. There is no more fight. There is no more anger. Only resignation and acceptance. The harder we try to stick it out and be the better person, the more splinters our hearts become. Unrecognizable to our younger selves because the heart isn’t what it used to be. Pieces have been taken and not given back. Or they’ve been returned in far worse shape than before.

I used to pride myself in the martyrdom of having had a shattered heart, but eventually I saw it hurt me more than it hurt the person who had done it. They had moved on and were busy living their life while I was still nursing old wounds.

A shattered heart weighs a little less than before. There’s something a little unsteady about when it falls for another. It quivers at the thought of letting someone in again. It cowers at the prospect of another traumatic experience. But somehow the heart continues to beat on and persevere. It only takes a spark to bring the heart back onto the edge of falling. The overwhelming belief, contrary to fact and physics, that the heart can fly takes over and it begins again.

It’s funny, if you asked me at 18, who I thought I’d become, I wouldn’t have guessed this is who I would’ve become.

As a young and wily 18 year old, I thought I knew it all. But I made all my decisions consciously and was prepared to deal with any and all outcomes. That’s part of how I took on being an adult. There came a time in which I was going to be fully accountable for the decisions I made; the fallout after, were my just desserts. I look back now and see I was young and foolish. I thought I had the world at my feet and really, I was just a very tiny pawn in the very big world. I saw myself as a warrior, but what I didn’t realize was I was a babe. New to a different world; things look similar to what I’d known from the past, but things were just different enough. New waters to navigate. New territory to explore. New people to meet. I never realized I could and eventually would take on the worst traits of those in my life. I always believed I was stronger than most, I wouldn’t yield to the pressures of others. I didn’t succumb to peer pressure, oh no, instead I started to pick up on their habits, mannerisms, tics, and personalities. The parts of me, which made me my own person, started to fade as I let myself fall into the shadow of someone else. I became a shell; hollow, faux, and ordinary. I let myself spend time with people who didn’t challenge me to think bigger and broader. I didn’t let myself grow to my fullest potential.

I had never truly experience a heart break. Sure, a few minor heartaches, a crack here and there, but never truly the full bearing weight of losing someone you loved.

My heart was torn out; stomped on, decimated, and then handed back to me. It’s ironic, I truly thought I was ready. This was someone who brought out the best in me, even when he drove me up a wall. He was always there for me; be it a text or a phone call. Hearing his voice could always break through the fog. That night I lost both my best friend and the love of my life, I forgot how to breath. Hurt, doesn’t even begin to describe my pain. Every breath was a wheezing gasp. His coldness and heartlessness stabbed into my broken heart, a knife cruelly twisted with every word. The loss I felt was beyond staggering. I was stripped of who I knew myself to be. Moving on was the hardest; but distance made it easier. He didn’t live in the same state, it was long distance before. So it didn’t change my day to day life. But there were so many reminders. Little things. That’s what always took me back. Each time I was brought back, a little more of me died inside. It took a long time to truly get over that pain. I can say three years and I’ve made peace. Three years and I accepted the loss. My heart healed, harder and stronger. I steeled myself to not let him ever see me as defenseless and helpless. I grew up. I can now say thank you to him because he taught me more about life and love than anyone had before. It’s not all rainbows and butterflies. It’s hard work, and if both people aren’t willing to make it work, it’s going to crash and burn.

I think Logan Echolls says it all in breaking up with Veronica (*sigh*): “I’m not built to stand on the sidelines. And I think we have a choice. I think we can take a tough, but survivable amount of pain now…or stay together and deal with unbearable pain later. So I vote for the pain now. But I’m always here… if you need anything. But you never need anything.”

Pure and simple, heart breaks are sometimes the best option. We, as humans, need to protect our greatest interest, ourselves. Before the outrage pours, hear me out. It’s our nature to look for a mate and to continue our line, because we want to survive. Survive, that’s the operative word. Survival is only possible when we make sure we don’t remain in a place which keeps us from growing, improving, learning, and adding to the lives around us. A heart break, as terrible as it is in the moment, is reparable. It’s possible to move on and live again, to love again. We see it all the time. We fall out of love, out of lust, out of desire, out of companionship, and other variables, but eventually we always find our way back to love.

A heart breaks differently each time. Sometimes after we rejoice the freedom. Sometimes we mourn the loss of a love like none before and none to follow. Sometimes the hole never heals and nothing can repair us. Sometimes it’s the feeling of our first heart break. Sometimes it’s remembering the first heart we broke. Sometimes it’s the heart we stole from another. Sometimes it’s when our heart is stolen. As F Scott Fitzgerald said, “There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.”

It gets so easy to stay stuck. We get wrapped up in the fact that we lost a part of ourselves, but we forget so many other people loved us before and will after. There are people who have loved us silently and never once said a word. There are people who have loved us unconditionally. There are people who learned to love because of you. There are people who learned to be better because of your love. It’s funny once we get past our own heartbreak, we see the world with different eyes. A little softer, a little kinder, a little gentler. How we should always be.

My first time to his place, was a pause before going out. It was a humble apartment, very much had both a bachelor and artist feel to it. I appreciated the art and homey feel but also the stark contrast of the very male thinking of furniture and decor.

I had forgotten his artistic background, but he did not. As I sat curled on the couch, he showed me his art. The talent he has is incredible. I have no words. Awe. His little notebooks took my breath away. To see him as a very different version of the person I’ve gotten to know was amazing.

The thrill, the excitement, it’s all alive and well. To have him be so excited to share with him a little piece of himself. To see a glimpse into who else he is. To experience the world through his eyes. That makes anytime spent with him perfection.

After months of contemplating a trip to the West Coast, I finally sucked it up and booked it. $200 round trip, hard to pass up on the opportunity.

I can’t begin to express how excited I am to see these college friends since we’ve had amazing adventures together from our time abroad. We studied abroad in Dublin and London for ten weeks and what an experience it was. I have no regrets except it ended far too quickly for my liking.

Steph and Kelly, or Kelphanie, as they’re affectionately known as, both studied with me at Drexel. Since graduating, they’ve up and left me for the West Coast, but I’m about to see what the fuss is all about in a few weeks (1o days actually)…

We have a long list of places to see and things to do, so I’m ready to take on the tourist life! A few of our goals include; going to bars and making sure we don’t pay for our drinks, hiking some trails, Walk of Fame, Nobu (nomz), watching a taping of a live show, and more!

It’s so easy to get wrapped up in the whirlwind of an emerging and new romance. We tend to overlook the red flags. We jump right in. We don’t take the time to think about how they can make our life more difficult rather than making our life more fun and enjoyable.

A few tips from an unbiased stand point when starting something new (yes yes, I should take my own advice!)

Watch his habits.

See his actions.

Let those speak louder than his words.

Wait for the follow through (or see he’s not going to follow-through).

Follow his lead and see how he acts with no guidance from you.

will he text or call you first?

how does he act around your friends/his friends?

does he respect you?

what is his behavior most of the time?

Pick up on his social cues, his non-verbal cues, and verbal cues

how he acts around others is telling

Does he put on a show?

Is he always this charming and sweet?

Is he only thoughtful when there are eyes on him?

the way he focuses on you or other people

his body language is a big indicator

does he speak as if you’re not there or is he proud to speak about you?

See how he is with timely responses. In this day and age with social media, keeping in contact shouldn’t be impossible.

In regards to a lack of communication, keep in mind what he says and see how his actions back it up.

If he says he’s away from his phone a lot, take him at his word BUT see how he is when he’s with you.

Is he always on the phone? If he is, then think about ending it.

Is he focused on you and doesn’t check his phone? He’s most likely just more of a single tracked guy and is truly not always on his phone.

If he’s slow to respond, think about his job and maybe why he’s not quick to respond. Like I tell myself, give him the benefit of the doubt until there’s reason think otherwise.

And most importantly, how does he treat you and make you feel?

Above all, make sure he respects your wishes. If he doesn’t respect you or treat you how you want to be treated, walk away. Don’t lower your own standards because you’re afraid of being alone. Does he give you butterflies? Does he make you laugh more than cry? Does he seem to care? Go with your gut because usually it’s right about the wrong person.